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Miss Delacourt Has Her Day

Page 18

by Heidi Ashworth


  “So, this is to be an engagement party?” Ginny shouted to Anthony over the fresh din. “I daresay I am the only girl in England whose betrothal has been announced at a balloon ascension!”

  “Shh!” he said, putting his finger to her lips. “I believe Lady Derby’s engagement to her dead earl was announced at a balloon ascension, more’s the pity, so I shall do you one better!” Climbing to the very top step, he waved his arms for silence. “In celebration of my impending marriage to Miss Delacourt, I have provided food and drink in the tents on the far side of the park”

  The roar that followed that pronouncement was one unlike Ginny had ever before heard. The people turned, seemingly en masse, and headed for the proffered food.

  “Why ever did you do that?” she asked. “I thought they came to see the balloon go up”

  “They did,” he replied as he moved back down the steps. “However, I needed a diversion so that I could do this,” he said, and, taking her bodily into his arms, he bore her quickly up the steps, depositing her neatly into the balloon. “You don’t know how I sorrow to ask this of you, my darling, but you must crouch, so none will be the wiser as to your presence”

  Ginny obediently sank down on her heels and attempted not to giggle, an endeavor most difficult to accomplish, especially in light of the startling proximity of Conti’s nose to hers.

  “Are you to be a witness, then?” Ginny whispered.

  “Bet ees not for me to say, Meess Delacourt, but I wish you every happiness.”

  “Do stop turning my bride up sweet, Conti, and move aside,” Anthony scolded. Climbing into the balloon, he pro ceeded to follow Conti’s instructions to the letter until, with a loud whoosh, they were aloft.

  “Now, Ginny, you must stay unseen, more’s the pity, until I say the word,” Anthony insisted.

  She was beginning to enjoy herself as she never had before. “Am I being abducted like Pamela?” she teased.

  “Yes, and you shall like it better than she, I warrant!”

  “What of Conti? I am persuaded I have never seen so much black folded up into such a small space”

  “Thees is a tragedy of no little consequence, meess, and the master shall pay for a new suit when thees ees done!” Conti averred.

  Ginny laughed. “But why?”

  “It was necessary that I fly the balloon myself for reasons I shall presently explain,” Anthony replied. “However, there was not time for Conti to instruct me on the niceties, and even had he done so, I fear I shall never get us to our destination without him. There, I think we are far enough above the ground to hide your presence,” he said, taking her hand and helping her to rise.

  Ginny’s hopes to survey the surrounding countryside from the air were temporarily delayed, for the moment she was on her feet, she found herself crushed in an unyielding pair of arms and hungrily kissed. She felt scandalous all the way down to her toes, but there was nothing for it but to surrender to the sweetness of it and count her blessings that Conti had a view only of their properly clad feet.

  Eventually the sound of Conti’s snoring wakened them from their reverie.

  “Poor Conti,” Anthony drawled. “I had him out until all hours of the morning and then up before the crack of dawn. But it was for a good cause”

  “Oh? What, pray tell, is a better cause then to fly through the air with my love?” Ginny said, drawing her fingers down the side of his face, an action that apparently delighted him to no end, for she was not to hear the answer to her question until after another splendidly thorough kiss.

  Finally, with a sigh, Anthony took a step back and pulled a parcel from the bottom of the basket. “I could not bear the thought of wedding you without the gown you so well adore,” he said, handing her the parcel. “I can only hope you will adore your groom half as well!”

  Ginny felt a surge of joy. “This is my gown? The one Madame Badeau made up for me?”

  “If by `Madame Badeau’ you mean one Miss James of Stevenage, Hertfordshire, yes. It seems she fancied the gown for her own nuptials slated to occur a fortnight hence and will instead wed in some hastily made-up costume of inferior quality, no doubt”

  “Oh, Anthony!” Ginny cried, throwing her arms around him. “Now everything shall be absolutely perfect, since, I feel free to assume, my trunk went ahead with Grandaunt Regina this morning?”

  “Where else?” he asked. “But, if I am not mistaken, there are one or two other questions you are burning to ask, just as I am burning to answer them.”

  Ginny tilted her head and studied his face, wondering if they could possibly be speaking of the same questions. “Very well, then. Why the boxing match, the carriage race, and now this delicious balloon?”

  “You are shockingly predictable, my dear, but very well,” he said with a sigh. “My uncle, the duke, was determined to make things difficult for us. At first it was because he was dying and feeling thwarted, so he found he must thwart as many others as possible. Other than his unfortunate servants, he has more power over his heir than most anyone. As you might have noticed, however, he seems to have made a full recovery. In fact, I fully expected to see him here today, but I did not. I suspect his most recent motivation for insisting on these tasks falls in line with the reason he was not in attendance”

  “And what might that be, pray tell?”

  “Yes, of course. But first I need to tell you why I went along with his demands. Surely you would never believe I would give you up simply because my uncle was proving difficult?”

  “No,” she said with a proud lift of her chin. “But I did fear that his disapproval, along with your mother’s and that of Society’s, might dampen your ardor. Then, when I saw Lady Derby… well, I found I could not feel utterly confident”

  Taking both of her hands in his, he drew them to his heart. “Ah, darling Ginny, if I had thought for one moment your knowledge of her would cause you pain, I would not have breathed a word about her. Just know that I was very young, too young to know my own heart. Lady Derby, on the other hand, doesn’t have one. I once believed I would never see the day when I would be grateful for her utter lack of feeling, but when I look into your eyes and try to imagine my life without you, I am forever grateful that she so cruelly turned me away.”

  There was little response to that which wasn’t better said with a kiss, but eventually Ginny remembered there were more questions remaining.

  “If it were all that simple, why, then, did you not tell me what was happening?”

  “Ah! Here we come to the meat of the matter-indeed, the part about which I am not so proud. At first I went along with it because it seemed simple enough to accomplish, and I felt I required some leverage in dealing with my uncle. Yet I thought better of informing you how matters stood, as I had no wish to worry you. You spent so much time weeping as it was! Then, once my uncle sent those two snakes to spread the word about, and wagers were made, I felt that I could not back out of it without the whole world knowing. My darling, I would have taken you off and wed you a dozen times over these last few days if it weren’t for the fear that, upon our return to London, your ears would be filled with talk of your husband’s cowardice or, worse yet, that you were something of which to be ashamed”

  Ginny pulled her hands away from his chest and nestled her head in their place. It was surprisingly cold up in the balloon, and his arms willingly came up and around to warm her, as she knew they would.

  “So, we are to be married in the rose garden at Dunsmere. And to think, today is the first of June! Baldwin will be so happy!”

  “Baldwin? Who is this Baldwin?” Anthony asked in feigned fury.

  “He is Grandaunt’s gardener. Ever since I came to live with her, he has often said how he’s been growing the roses for my wedding day. Is that not the sweetest thing?” she asked, tilting her head back to look into his eyes.

  “No, my love. You are the sweetest thing! Well, except when you are angry and there are sharp things about”

  Ginny laughed an
d then bethought herself of a tantalizing bit of information he had mentioned earlier. “And what of your uncle? Why is it that he truly wants you to busy yourself with these unreasonable tasks, and why would he miss the balloon ascension?” Having seen him out and about with Lady Derby on several occasions, Ginny thought she knew the answer, but she wanted to hear it from her beloved’s own lips.

  He gave a gusty sigh so large, her head bobbed back and forth against his chest. “I believe it was all a grand diversion and that he has eloped with Lady Derby, a rather scandalous act, when one considers she has been a widow slightly longer than a year. Which brings to mind my last question, dearest, and you must answer this honestly. How fond were you of becoming a duchess one day?”

  Slipping from his arms, she took his face between her hands. “Oh, my darling, let us pray that the new Duchess of Marcross will wax fruitful and multiply!”

  He smiled, a wide, joyous grin. “So, you weren’t any fonder of the idea of being a duchess than I was of being a duke?”

  “Why, Anthony, how could you have doubted? Money, titles, and, as handsome as you look in them, clothes… they are all just a facade” Placing her arms around his neck, she kissed him on the cheek. “All I have ever wanted is you, the man behind the mask”

  Why, listen to this, my flower,” Lord Avery exclaimed one morning in June. “It says here in the society page that Anthony, Lord Crenshaw, and Miss Ginerva Delacourt were married in Bedfordshire a fortnight past.”

  Lucinda made a little moue. “I wonder that we were not invited! How odd, for I am persuaded we are their only friends. If I were she, I would be most happy to have an earl and countess attend my wedding.”

  “Yes, my darling, but there is more. It says they were married by special license in a rose garden, of all places!”

  “And to think we were married at that moldy hotel in Gretna Green!” Lucinda exclaimed. “How I should have liked to have married by special license, instead. I am told they cost the earth!”

  “But, Lucinda, my love, there was no time to obtain one. As you may recall, we were being held captive in your house due to that pox quarantine.”

  “Yes, of course, but I am persuaded that some flowers would have been lovely. Ginny had a whole garden of them!”

  Lord Avery sighed and carried on. “The groom wore a suit of blue silk, and the bride, a gown of the finest white muslin embroidered all over with tiny rosebuds. The skirt was done up in a triple layer of ruching and adorned with silk in palest rose. In addition, her bonnet was most becoming, with a layer of veiling to frame the bride’s face”

  “I want a dress of the finest white muslin,” Lucinda said with a pout.

  “You already possess a quantity of white muslin dresses, my love!” Lord Avery countered.

  “Yes, but now that we are married, I am expected to wear colors everywhere I go!”

  “But, my darling! You said you were sick unto death of white and could hardly wait to be a married woman so that you might wear any color you chose!”

  “I find that I was wrong, Eustace. If you loved me, you would annul our marriage on the spot!”

  “Lucinda, you know I cannot do that! However, I will own that it pinches a bit to read of other weddings when our own was so paltry. I know! We shall have a ball, and you will have a dress made up as fine as you wish. I shall bespeak every blossom in town, and there will be candles, the glow of which will rival Carlton House!”

  “Oh, yes!” Lucinda cried. “I should like to invite the Prince Regent and show him how much brighter and better and thinner we are than he!”

  “Then it is settled,” Lord Avery said, returning to his newspaper.

  “Eustace?”

  “Yes, my love?”

  “Do you suppose they are thinking of us at all?”

  “Who? Do you mean to say Crenshaw and Ginny?”

  “Yes, them”

  “No, my love,” he said, patting her hand. “Doubtless they are not giving us a passing thought”

  At that very moment, Ginny, in a smart new gown of pomona-green silk, and her adored husband, head bare and coat abandoned, were floating in a gondola in Venice. This was her favorite time of day, made wholly better by the sight of her Anthony poling them along the river with his sleeves rolled up past his elbows, browned arms glistening in the sun.

  From time to time they were content to float free, and Anthony would take his place by the side of his beloved wife and quote poetry.

  “Do please recite that one, Anthony!”

  “Which one is that?” he asked with an idle air, engrossed in curling one of her silky locks around his fingers.

  “I’m persuaded you know just the one I mean! It is my favorite above all of Shakespeare’s sonnets, the one that claims “rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.”

  “Ah, yes, that one” Leaning close to gaze into her shining eyes, he began.

 

 

 


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